


A More Complex Calculation

by justlikeswitchblades



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Pining, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4822073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Momoi Satsuki is good at short-term goals. Like trying to improve Touou's game, or getting good grades.</p><p>Like trying to get into bed with Seirin's coach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A More Complex Calculation

**Author's Note:**

> momoi wanks to the thought of getting off riko, underage as mentioned above, but the whole thing isn't just about that

Momoi Satsuki was a girl who knew what she wanted out of life.

Well, not out of life overall, to be honest. She had some ideas about her future, which was likely to involve managing Daiki at whatever university that provided the best offer to him--even as a first year, scouts had started to express interest in him--and that was more than fine. He was already far more abrasive than necessary, and that had yet to show any signs of wearing off as he matured. If he had even done much of that.

She's good with short term goals, at least, like figuring out how to strengthen Touou after their loss at the Winter Cup. Like trying to get good test scores.

Like trying to get Aida Riko into her bed.

Satsuki has always liked girls. Managing Daiki always had a tendency of taking up her time though, whether it be on or off the court, so she's had few outlets for own sexuality over the years. Tetsu's quiet ferocity had always intrigued her, and Ryouta was femme enough to substitute the female friends she never really had, but she had never been attracted to them, not in the way she had been to girls. Not in the way she is towards Riko.

It's nearly frustrating, at times. She seems so _average_ , and yet...she's not. She's not. She put together the perhaps the most underdog team in existence, only to have them become the best high school team in Japan. It'll only last for a year--Satsuki will do her best to ensure that--but she knows the players weren't entirely responsible for their victory. Riko had her place among them, too.

Satsuki has never had a _type_ , per se. She's spent so much of her life around Daiki and other boys that she barely paid much attention to girls when they were around, even if she wanted to. But for some reason, Riko caught her eye--perhaps it was _because_ she was a coach--and now Satsuki is unable to think of herself as anything less than obsessed.

The daydreams during games and practices are some of the worst, when she wants to pay attention to her boys, when she _needs_ to. But thoughts of Riko still invade, wondering how she would call that play, how she would have set it up better, how much she'd make Seirin run if they had suffered such a devastating defeat, even in a practice match.

But she might consider her other thoughts to be even worse.

Uniform discarded onto her bedroom floor, slipping her hand into her underwear, biting her lip as she teases at her clit, imagining she could touch Riko in the same way. Lubing up the glass dildo she managed to buy online without her mother noticing, she stretches herself carefully, inserting it slowly, moaning softly, toes grasping desperately at her bedsheets as she orgasms, only thinking of Riko, Riko, Riko.

She wants her. To palm at the smallness of her chest, to drag her into the girls' bathroom while the boys are changing, slipping her hand up her skirt and between her thighs. But it's not just that. She wants their fingers to tangle together shyly, secretly, cheeks flushing, uttering soft apologies when their ankles graze underneath a café table where they nibble at biscuits and parfaits.

Satsuki wants Riko.

And yet she hasn't even managed to say a word to her outside of a game.


End file.
